


Stuck

by softgrungeprophet



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Bathing/Washing, First Meetings, Implied Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-08
Updated: 2014-09-08
Packaged: 2018-02-16 14:20:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2273001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softgrungeprophet/pseuds/softgrungeprophet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chuck gets stuck in a vending machine, and Lucifer finds him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stuck

The building was dark, but for the occasional single fluorescent light fixture buzzing pathetically at the end of one hallway or another. Lucifer liked being in the art building so late at night, when the only lit room was the front office, when everyone had left and locked the doors hours before. He trailed his hand along the wall. That odd paper-plastic texture... He shook his head.

As he turned the corner toward the front doors, he heard a noise. Backpedaled a little to look down the hall to the gallery, and saw someone kneeling in front of the vending machine. Not only kneeling, but kneeling with their arm stuck in the vending machine's opening. Presumably from trying to grab something that had failed to fall out completely.

"Excuse me..." Lucifer walked over, boots tapping quietly against the linoleum. "Do you need help?"

The person looked up, flushed and wide-eyed. "I—uh." He cleared his throat. "Please, God, yes."

Lucifer snorted and knelt down beside him. "Well, I'm not God. Quite the opposite—I'm Lucifer." He held his hand out, to shake. "Who're you?"

"Oh—Chuck." Chuck managed to twist himself to shake Lucifer's hand with the one not stuck in the vending machine. He even smiled, just barely. "That's a funny name—I mean. I'm sorry." He bumped his head against the glass window separating him from a variety of snacks. Closed his eyes a moment. "Sometimes I don't... think... before I say stuff."

Sliding closer, Lucifer muttered, "Or before you do stuff, apparently." He pushed at the flap of the vending machine with one hand, and slipped the other up around Chuck's elbow. Reached up carefully to jostle the smaller man's arm, and worked at loosening it. He frowned. Pushed Chuck more firmly against the vending machine. "Stick your arm in further—I know that sounds foolish, but just... a little bit, okay?"

Chuck did what he asked, reluctantly, trying to ignore the fact that he was smooshed between a twenty-something year old and a sheet of Plexiglas in a vaguely compromising position. But, sure enough, Lucifer managed to pull his arm out most of the way without much extra twisting. Chuck sighed and got himself out the rest of the way, while Lucifer backed away from him. He stayed slumped against the vending machine.

"See? Easy." Lucifer stood with a grin. He held his hand out for Chuck, this time not to shake but to help him up. Chuck eagerly accepted his help, smiling slightly, still red in the face—probably from embarrassment more than exertion. Lucifer slapped his back. "You're lucky I was here. How long were you stuck there, anyway?"

Straightening his glasses, Chuck mumbled, "I dunno... like an hour?"

Lucifer raised his eyebrows. "An _hour_?"

Chuck crossed his arms and looked down at his feet. "Yeah." He rubbed his face, setting his glasses askew all over again, and let out a big breath. "'Cause I'm a dumbass and no one ever goes here anyway and... Thanks. Thanks for not, like... ignoring me." He rubbed his elbow. Frowned and shook his fingers.

"Well... You're welcome, I guess." Lucifer stuck his hands in the pockets of his jacket—white leather, nice and soft. His mouth twisted while he thought a moment, but then he said, "You're probably pretty hungry, huh? When's the last time you ate? I mean... if you were at a vending machine you probably wanted something to eat, right?"

A shrug. "I dunno." Chuck fixed his glasses again. Ran a hand through his messy curls and glanced up at Lucifer before looking down the hall. "Like... breakfast?"

"What?!"

Chuck flinched. "I—I—I was just... busy!" He stepped back from Lucifer, hugging himself. "I forgot."

"Oh, hey, hey." Lucifer held his hands up, slowly. He didn't move any closer, though, for fear he might startle Chuck away completely. "I'm not gonna hurt you. Okay?" He cracked a grin. "I know I look scary, but I'm not that bad. Usually. Just don't get me into a bar fight, you'll be fine."

That got a small smile out of Chuck, and his shoulders drooped a little. He bit his lip. Uncrossed his arms and wiped his palms on his jeans before asking, "Do you... well... You helped me—I just, um." He grimaced down at the linoleum. "Sorry."

Lucifer held his hand out, and moved closer to Chuck. Made sure Chuck didn't shy away before setting his hand on his shoulder. "You don’t need to apologize. If you want to thank me, you don't have to do anything."

"But—" Chuck licked his lips and looked up at Lucifer. Met his eyes, blue to blue. "I want to. I want to do something nice, since... you got me unstuck."

"Hmm..." Lucifer let his hand drop from Chuck's shoulder. He smirked and tilted his head. "How about a kiss? On the cheek, of course. I don't expect a stranger to want to kiss me right on the mouth." He paused. "Not that I would mind. You're adorable."

Chuck blushed.

"Aww, what? You're too shy?"

"No!" Chuck puffed up, even redder in the face than before. "I just—how old are you?!"

Lucifer laughed. He shrugged. "Twenty-two?"

Chuck made a face and said, "I'm thirty-two."

"What—really? Are you a teacher, or something?" Lucifer frowned. "Or are you just a really old senior? A loser." He smiled again and poked at Chuck's shoulder. "Are you a faculty member?"

Chuck swatted at Lucifer's hand. He crossed his arms again and sighed. "I'm just a returning student, okay? I dropped out when I was younger and got a job and I thought, you know, I could take some classes again, maybe. Learn stuff... get a degree and a better job." He scuffed his feet on the floor.

"Oh, so... you're part-time? Or night classes? I mean, I assume you have a job of some kind."

With a nod, Chuck said, "Part-time. I got almost all of my credits when I went the first time... But, you know, mental breakdowns from stress really put a damper on finishing college and then... it's ten years later and I'm right back here trying to get my last ten credits." He rubbed his face. "You probably don't... care."

Lucifer shook his head. "No, I'm curious." He put his hand lightly at Chuck's back, urging him down the hall. "Let's go outside, though. How much do you have left to do?" He pulled his hand away, realizing Chuck might not be comfortable with random strangers touching his back, no matter how helpful. He watched Chuck, though, as they walked. Watched him twist his mouth as he thought. He almost tripped and Lucifer grabbed at his arm. "Easy, buddy."

Chuck cleared his throat. "Um. I think I can graduate with all the seniors in June?"

"Hey, me too!" Lucifer shoved his hands into his pockets as he hopped down the steps from the art building. "One more quarter, and I'll be home free." He grinned at Chuck. "What are you gonna do? Do you know?"

"Well..." Chuck half-smiled, scratching the back of his neck. He almost tripped again, on the stairs, but caught himself on the railings. "Um—I always wanted to be a writer, you know?" He stepped over a loose brick on the pathway toward the main part of campus.

Shifting a little closer as he walked, Lucifer raised his eyebrows and said, "Oh, a writer? A writer of what?" He leered. "Dirty romance novels?"

"No!" Chuck huffed. "Paranormal fiction, and stuff. Like vampires!" He deflated a little, and watched his feet. "But not romance vampires. I'm no good at romance... but I'm okay with the whole... gross rejects and scary monsters. Like... like those vampires that lure in pretty people and then drink their blood and stuff and never leave their big mansions and get all lonely." He looked up at Lucifer, illuminated by the yellow lamps lining the path. "Where are we going?"

Lucifer watched Chuck for a moment, quietly. He pulled one hand out of his pocket and pointed up toward a little building just visible at the top of a hill. "I'm hungry, and you need to eat... So, I was thinking I could take you to the Italian restaurant." He smiled. "My brothers own it, so I can get you some nice free food, full of butter."

Chuck swallowed back whatever he wanted to say, and instead muttered, "You already helped me plenty. I can go to the dining hall."

"No, no." Lucifer reached for Chuck's arm. "I _insist_."

"But—I still don't have a way to thank you, and that's so fancy—" Chuck didn't pull away from Lucifer, though. "I haven’t taken a shower since Wednesday."

Lucifer snorted. "It's only Friday." He pulled Chuck closer—wrapped his arm around Chuck's shoulders. "They won't mind. They'll think you're cute, if anything." He kept walking, leading Chuck toward the parking lot. "And, like I said, just give me a kiss on the cheek and I'll be good." He grinned. Turned to face Chuck, in the middle of an empty parking spot. He tapped his face. "Painless."

Chuck fidgeted a moment before hopping up on his toes. He pecked Lucifer on the cheek. "Thank you."

"No problem. Now, get in the Ferrari."

"Excuse me?"

Lucifer raised his eyebrows at Chuck, grinning mischievously. "The white Ferrari behind you? That's mine."

"I—" Chuck turned around. "Are you serious—no, you're fucking with me." He turned back around and glared at Lucifer. "You don't drive a Ferrari!"

Lucifer held up his keys with a smirk. Jingled them. "Rich parents." He winked and walked around the driver's side, opening the door and sliding in without any further explanation. He reached across and pushed the passenger door open. "Get in, you nerd!"

Chuck deliberated for just a few seconds but decided that if Lucifer was a murderer or something, he wouldn't be able to get away whether he refused to get into the car or not. Chuck was small, after all, and Lucifer was at least six feet tall and built like a brick house. Chuck took a breath and hopped into the Ferrari, shutting the door firmly—but not _too_ firmly—behind him.

"There we go." Lucifer smiled at him. "Now, let's go get some food!"

Chuck nodded, and smiled timidly, and clutched to his seat for dear life as Lucifer sped out of the parking lot.

* * *

"This is Chuck. I saved his life and he's hungry, so... Free food?"

Chuck blushed under the stare from Lucifer's older brother. "He—he didn't save my life. I was just stuck somewhere..." He trailed off. Wished he could curl up and hide. Michael was handsome, but terrifying. Really, really terrifying. Chuck gulped back his explanation and chirped, "Please don't kill me."

Lucifer laughed, and even Michael seemed to smile. He shook his head and told Chuck, "I'm not one for indiscriminate murder." He stepped back and gestured toward a small table near the back of the restaurant, just within throwing distance of the kitchen doors. "You needn't worry, unless you have a fatal allergy to wheat gluten."

"Oh—no, I'm... no allergies." Chuck laughed, sort of. Let Lucifer lead him to the table and when Michael finally disappeared into the kitchen, Chuck melted into the seat with a sigh. "He looks so angry."

Rolling his eyes, Lucifer unwrapped his forks and spoons. "He's just got a chronic case of Resting Bitchface. He looks grumpy but he'll only hurt you if you hurt someone he cares about. Like our little sister—she had an ex who tried to beat her up and, well... Between me and Michael... and Anna, too..." Lucifer paused. "Well, her ex has been in the hospital for about a year."

"That... doesn't make me feel better."

Lucifer laughed. "Just don't beat me up and you'll be fine."

Chuck wrinkled his nose, picking at his napkin. "Like I could hurt you." He shook his head. Sat up straighter and laid out his utensils.

"You _do_ have a point." Lucifer tapped his finger against the tabletop. "Although, it could be one of those situations where the strong one lets the weak one hurt them, because the strong one doesn't want to injure the weak one..."

Silence, for a few seconds. Chuck nodded. "Can we talk about something else?"

"Of course." Lucifer shrugged out of his jacket and folded it up, setting it on the seat beside him. He straightened the strap of his tight red tank top and smiled at Chuck. "So, you want to write. What else do you like to do? Other than get stuck in vending machines." He snickered.

Chuck pouted. He gave Lucifer a glare, then shrugged. "I just write and... drink whiskey." He bit his lip. "And... I like to take baths?"

Lucifer clicked his tongue with a teasing grin. "Whiskey and... bubble baths?"

" _Maybe_."

Lucifer laughed. "I like you, Chuck. You're cool." He leaned back in the booth seat and watched Chuck for a few seconds. Watched his cheeks turn pink, and watched him glance away, all bashful and shy. Lucifer made sure to flex his arm ("accidentally") when Chuck looked back at him. Grinned his most charming grin and said, "Are you gonna look at the menu?"

"Oh." Chuck grabbed the single menu off the table, blushing even redder, and hid behind it as he looked through the lists of food. He took his time, so that he'd only just decided on something by the time a pretty redhead stopped by to take their orders. When she asked what he wanted, he said, "The... chicken alfredo? And um... coffee. That—the espresso."

The redhead turned to Lucifer. "Shrimp pesto like always?"

"Of course, Anna." Lucifer grinned. "Extra shrimp."

Anna rolled her eyes, took the menu from Chuck with a smile, and went off to the kitchen.

For a moment, Chuck hesitated. But he asked, "Was that your sister?"

Lucifer nodded. He leaned his elbows on the tabletop and locked eyes with Chuck. "Baby sister Anna, just eighteen. Lover of chocolate cake, and a black belt in Taekwondo." He chuckled to himself. "She could kick your ass just as thoroughly as me."

"Oh, great. Good to know." Chuck crossed his arms, pulling his sweater more tightly around himself despite the warm temperature of the restaurant. He stared down at the table. Looked up and said, "I'm sorry I'm not a very good date."

"Not a good date?" Lucifer scoffed. "Ridiculous. You're cute, I'm hot, and I like talking to you." He grinned and reached out to take one of Chuck's hands. He turned Chuck's hand over, rubbing a thumb over his palm. "But it's not a date without flirting..." He raised his eyebrows. Leaned down and kissed Chuck's palm.

Chuck felt like he might be permanently scarlet. He pulled his hand back. Tried to think of something to say, something charming or intelligent, but all he got out was a soft, "You... you're... handsome and stuff?"

"That is the worst attempt at flirtation I've ever heard." Lucifer shook his head. "You can't just blurt out whatever you're thinking. Insinuate compliments and imply inappropriate things." He paused. Narrowed his eyes. "Like, 'those jeans really flatter your figure,' or 'that color really brings out your eyes.'" He raised an eyebrow. "You follow?"

"Um." Chuck blinked. "Sorry, I was distracted... Your shirt is really tight."

Lucifer laughed. "Inelegant but flattering." He glanced down at himself, straightening the hem of his shirt. "It is a _little_ tight. Makes my pecs look good, right?"

Chuck ducked his head. Peeked out from under his hand, chewing on his lip a little. "I... I guess."

"You guess?" Lucifer sighed. "It's just a fact." He cleared his throat and slapped the table. "But, a true pickup line is much stronger. Subtle, but not too subtle. Like, 'Can I read your shirt in braille,' or..." He leaned closer, lowering his voice and inching his fingers toward Chuck's hand again. "I like your outfit, but those clothes would look better on my bedroom floor." He grinned.

Chuck laughed, and pushed Lucifer's hand away. "You're awful." He kept smiling, though. Caught Lucifer's eye. "Um..." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I really like apples..."

"What?" Lucifer's forehead creased as he tried to figure out what Chuck could mean.

Chuck rolled his eyes. "I mean, like... in pancakes. So you know what to make for breakfast." He smiled, not quite meeting Lucifer's eyes.

Lucifer let out a surprised laugh and said, "That's cute." He wiggled his eyebrows. "So you wanna stay the night, huh?"

"I dunno..." Chuck shrugged. "Do you want me to?"

Lucifer leaned back in his seat with a broad grin. "Yes. Definitely." He stretched his legs out, accidentally (or not so accidentally) bumping his foot against Chuck's. He draped his arms over the back of the booth seat. Tilted his head and said, "I'll have to stop by the grocery store before we go to my place, to get some apples... But there's plenty of room in my bed for the both of us." He winked.

Chuck straightened his glasses with a quiet laugh. "Sounds good to me."

"Good."

* * *

Lucifer gathered himself, in the driver's seat. "Okay. Done with dinner, bought the apples. And... that's all." He looked over at Chuck. A sly smile overtook his face, and he leaned toward him. He dropped his voice to a whisper. "Are you ready to get it on?" A wiggle of his eyebrows.

Beside him, Chuck laughed as he opened the door. "Maybe not right away." He hopped out of the car. Leaned down and stuck his head back in to say, "I'm a... a delicate flower. I need time." He slammed the door shut and started up the path toward Lucifer's front door. He listened for Lucifer—another thud from the car, and footsteps behind him. Lucifer's arms wrapped around his waist from behind. Chuck took the bag of apples from Lucifer's hand. "It's hard to walk like this."

"What, with all my weight on your back?" Lucifer let Chuck go. He slipped past him, pulling his keys from his pocket. Waited at the front door, and when Chuck got up to the steps he unlocked the door. Threw it open wide. "After you." He helped Chuck into the house, and slunk in after him. He shut the door. Didn't lock it, because he didn't want to scare Chuck, or make him feel trapped. Instead, Lucifer just set the keys on the table under the coat rack and took the apples from Chuck. "Hang your sweater up, hm?"

Chuck paused. "Oh—" He undid his buttons and pulled off his cardigan, uncovering his pale arms. He hung the sweater up on a hook as Lucifer hung his own jacket, and crossed his arms. He suppressed a tiny shiver. "Why is your house so cold?"

"I just like it that way." Lucifer led Chuck to the kitchen. "If I get too cold, I can just throw something on." He set the apples on the counter by the stove just as Chuck came through the doorway. Moved toward Chuck and pushed him right back out into the hallway. "It's easier to warm up than to cool down, isn't it?" He reached his hands out—made sure Chuck didn't shy away before settling his fingers against his waist. He steered Chuck through the door to the living room, murmuring about blankets and jackets and "exercise." Through the living room, to another door. For a moment, he just pushed Chuck up against the pale wood. Looked like he might kiss him, but then reached for the doorknob.

Chuck let himself be pushed into the bedroom. "Just... just so we're clear," He glanced over his shoulder, as Lucifer lifted him onto the bed. "I like lots of kissing, before... you know." He couldn't think of anything else to say. Found himself distracted, as Lucifer pressed him into the sheets. Anyway, with Lucifer's lips against his, speaking became a little difficult.

The bed was very soft, though, and Lucifer kept his hands above the belt. Focused on kissing Chuck, with some wandering fingers on the side—up his shirt, tickly and cold. Chuck stifled a laugh.

Lucifer kissed him quiet.

* * *

"See? Heated you right up." Lucifer tightened his arms around Chuck, brushing his lips against the back of his neck. Chuck shivered, and Lucifer laughed. He flattened his palm against Chuck's stomach. Stroked his thumb over the soft skin there and muttered, "Nice and warm."

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Chuck settled back against Lucifer's chest. "Well, your fingers are really cold and so is the air." He grabbed Lucifer's hands and pulled them away from his stomach, and squirmed out of Lucifer's hold. "And I feel all sticky. So... where's your bathroom?"

Lucifer sat up and pointed. "That door—not the door to the living room, the one across from it."

"Oh—" Chuck poked his head into the bathroom, flicking the light on. "It's so... white." He opened the door wide, and looked around the bathroom—white tiles, white countertops, white walls. Huge, white bathtub near a white toilet. White sink. All vaguely expensive looking and shiny—a lot of marble and pale silvery metals. The mirror took up nearly the entire wall above the sink. Chuck fiddled with the tub's knobs for a few seconds, kneeling on the cold floor. When the temperature seemed right to him, he leaned on the marble of the tub and waited for it to fill.

The soft tap of bare feet against porcelain tiles alerted Chuck to Lucifer's presence. He craned his neck to look up at Lucifer. "Are you gonna join me, or are you here to watch?" He almost sat on the floor, but the tiles were too cold on his butt so he stayed crouching. "'Cause watching me take a bath might be weird, but so would taking a bath with me... I mean... I mean, we only just met today."

"Well, we just had sex so I don't think it's as weird as you seem to believe." Lucifer sat on the edge of the tub and ran his hand through Chuck's hair. Chuck scooted over and laid his head on Lucifer's knee, while Lucifer continued to pet him. "But if you really don't want me in here, I can leave you alone."

Chuck hummed. "No, you can stay." He closed his eyes, listening to the water fill the bathtub. "You can help me get clean or watch me wash my hair. Whatever it is, I don't really mind." He laughed. "Anyway, you have a point. I mean, I let you have sex with me even though we just met like three hours ago, so a bath is kind of... tame."

Voice low, Lucifer asked, "The fucking was good, though. Right?" He rubbed his hand down Chuck's neck, and over his shoulders. "I thought it was good."

"Oh my God." Chuck shoved at Lucifer's hand, but he smiled. "It was _fine_. Don't be that guy who pesters me about whether or not it felt good. I've had enough of those guys. I'm done with them—they make me feel like a movie critic. Like, I came home with you to _have_ sex, not to _talk_ about it." He lifted his head from Lucifer's knee. "If I hated it, I'd tell you."

Lucifer smirked. "Well, that's good." He pulled Chuck up to sit beside him, and kissed him. "Now, you should get in the bath before it overflows. I'll just sit here."

"Yeah, yeah." Chuck turned around so he could get into the tub, turning off the faucet as he sat in the water. He closed his eyes. Breathed in the steam and enjoyed the heat seeping through his limbs. Eventually, he peeked at Lucifer—the younger man still sat on the edge of the tub, watching Chuck curiously. Chuck sat up. "Are you into voyeurism, or something?" He splashed himself with some water, and looked around for soap.

"...Or something." Lucifer reached up to a shelf above the tub and handed a bar of soap to Chuck. "I think it's interesting to see people in their more vulnerable states." He shrugged. Slid off the edge of the bathtub to sit on the floor. He dipped a hand in the bath water, swirling it around. "Whether that's bathing, sleeping... But only if they're alright with it."

Chuck laughed as he cleaned himself. "That's good to know."

Lucifer smiled.

When Chuck finally decided he was clean enough, Lucifer pulled him up out of his bath and helped him dry off. He ruffled Chuck's hair with the towel while the bath drained, and threw the towel on the counter before grabbing Chuck around his middle and picking him up. Chuck yelped, clinging to Lucifer. Lucifer carried him to the bed and pulled the blankets over them both in the darkness. He wrapped his arms around Chuck. Chuck scooted close to him. Tangled their legs together.

He looked forward to apple pancakes in the morning.


End file.
